


The Man Behind the Myth

by ohmytheon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Newspapers, Team Dynamics, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 21:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon
Summary: When Roy is picked to be the subject of an article about the military, he's not sure what to expect, but as it turns out, a man is only as good as the people that support him.





	The Man Behind the Myth

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for a zine ages ago that didn't come to be. I just remembered it today and thought I'd touch it up and post it. I forgot how much I liked this tbh.

“Yo, Boss, the article about you is in the paper!” Havoc called from the outside room.

Roy looked up and glanced at Riza, a decidedly smug grin on his face upon hearing that announcement. Riza didn’t say anything in response or even make a face, but he thought there was a glint of agitation in her eyes. Unlike the others, she hadn’t enjoyed having a reporter follow her around for an entire day, peppering her with questions and popping out of nowhere to disturb her quiet work. It had been almost two weeks since the daylong interview. While Roy would never say he had eagerly anticipated the article, he didn’t waste any time to saunter outside of his interior office.

His team had assembled around Havoc’s desk in an attempt to read the article first, pushing at one another to get a closer look. Havoc was sitting down, therefore in control of the paper, and Fuery at least had the sense to duck out of Breda’s and Falman’s ways.

“That photographer definitely knows how to take a picture,” Breda said.

“It’s difficult to take a picture of me that isn’t good,” Roy pointed out without a hint of sarcasm. It may have just been his ears, but it sounded as if Riza sighed behind him.

Upon finally reaching the desk, Roy took control, swiveling the newspaper around so that he could read it. The other men moved in order to keep doing so. Riza stayed where she was, not even bothering with trying to look at the article. Instead, she chose to focus on the paperwork in her hands. The picture was indeed a good one, showing off Roy in his immaculate Amestris uniform, his signature black coat whipping behind him in the wind. He was issuing an order to his subordinates, all of whom gazed at him with rapt attention, while Riza stood stoically at his side. Really, it was the perfect picture for an article about the up-and-coming Colonel Mustang.

When Roy had been told by General Grumman he had been chosen as the subject for an article on the military, he had been skeptical but pleased. After all, any publicity was good publicity if you knew how to spin it - and he had been raised by Madam Christmas. It had been something of a surprise to find out that the reporter was focused mostly on him and not the actual military itself. All those accomplishments under his belt - the reporter, perhaps in cahoots with some of the higher-ups, wanted to write about the fresh faces of the military, perhaps with the intent of boosting its popularity with civilians.

The idea of being the centerpiece of what could possibly be propaganda had honestly made Roy feel uneasy, but you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, especially when you were trying to get to the top. The military and the media was using him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use them too.

“‘ _ Stepping into the Flames _ ’.” Roy stroked his chin. “A bit dramatic, isn’t it?”

“You do have a flare for the dramatics, don’t you, sir?” Riza pointed out. Her eyes remained on the files when he glanced back at her. So much for her not actually paying attention. She was merely pretending not to, but not good enough where she couldn’t resist a jab at his ego.

Havoc snorted. “And that photo isn’t dramatic at all. You look like you’re sending us to battle. If I recall, your orders concerned a man vandalizing government property with inappropriate drawings.”

“They weren’t even anatomically correct,” Falman muttered, like that was the most grievous offense.

Glaring at the lot of them, Roy snatched the newspaper off Havoc’s desk and flicked it in his hands so that he alone could read it. The article was about him, after all, and he at least needed to make sure he hadn't been horribly defamed. Grumman liked him well enough, but if any sort of scandal came about because of something said in the article, it would still be Roy’s head on the chopping block. The reporter, one Adam Reynolds, had appeared decent and diligent, but then he also willingly wrote what was basically a promo for the military with Roy as the poster boy. Focusing on the article and blocking his team’s curious eyes from his mind, Roy began to read aloud.

_ There isn’t anyone in Amestris who doesn’t at least know of the Flame Alchemist. They might not know his real name or the litany of other titles that he goes by, but from all corners of Amestris, the whispered name of the “Flame Alchemist” can elicit reactions all the way from a terrified shiver to tremendous praise to a disappointed scowl. I had never met the man personally myself and only knew of his feats through carefully regulated articles. When given the assignment to interview him, I didn’t know what to expect or whether to be excited or scared. _

_ Don’t let his age fool you. At only twenty-five years-old, Roy Mustang is not only the youngest Colonel in history, but it's even said that he alone brought an end to the Ishval War with his extraordinary Flame Alchemy. He was also formerly the youngest alchemist to pass the State Alchemist exam before recruiting Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. The man’s records boast prodigious ambition and also a startling aptitude to rise above any difficulties. Where is the line drawn between respect and fear concerning a man like that? _

“Oh, this guy gets you,” Havoc interrupted, a wide grin on his face. When Roy shot him a flat look, Havoc waved his hands in front of him as a sign of surrender. “I’m being serious here. I basically had those same thoughts when you first recruited me.”

“You can be kind of...intense at times, sir,” Fuery added, a light pink dusting his cheeks.

Roy didn’t know what to say to that. He thought he kept his cool almost all the time, preferring to remain somewhat aloof with others and hiding his thoughts behind the closed doors of his mind. He never went off the handle or anything like that. Well, there was that one time a suspect put his hands on Riza in a very inappropriate manner, but he had only been protecting her.

_ One might expect an officer, especially one as young and in such a high position as him, to be arrogant about being in the spotlight of an article about the military - and Colonel Mustang does not disappoint. He wears a smug grin on his face, leaning casually back in his seat in a manner that would’ve sent a less coordinated person sprawling, and greets me with the perfect air of authority when I step into his office. _

Havoc snorted loudly. Roy smacked him with the paper. The jerk didn’t even bother hiding his amusement.

_ It is clear in this very moment that, despite his youthful face and lackadaisical behavior, this is a man who knows he's in control and it is very easy for me to get swept away by that way of thinking. When he asks me to sit, I find myself sitting down before him without even thinking about it, like I'm eagerly awaiting orders. Is this the man I'm meant to interview or the man who he wants me to interview? I know right away that I’m not going to get all the answers I want. However, as I’ve found before, the best way to get to the heart of any officer is not through him or her, but through their relationship with their subordinates. _

“Hey, we’re in the article too!” Fuery exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve never been in the paper before.”

“I have,” Breda proclaimed.

“For what?” Havoc countered. “A hot dog eating contest?”

He got hit with the paper once again.

_ On paper, Colonel Mustang’s team looks relatively the same as any others’: five officers with good (and mostly clean) records, some with their own reputations outside of their superior officer. I'm surprised to find that my entrance disturbs them very little. None of them seem on edge or bothered by a reporter, continuing on as if I’m not even there. Second Lieutenants Havoc and Breda banter with each other in between trading information on their latest case. Warrant Officer Falman organizes old paperwork, seemingly lost to the world, while Master Sergeant Fuery takes calls on the hotline and writes down any tips coming in, though he takes the time to cheerfully wave at me. _

_ I'm feeling at ease, although a bit confused as to why no one seems the least bit flustered by media presence, when I meet First Lieutenant Hawkeye. Like any idiot, I am immediately taken with her natural beauty- _

“Oh please,” Riza grumbled, now sitting at her desk.

Roy smiled at her. “Seems you have an admirer.”

It was a good thing she didn’t have a hold of the paper or she would have likely whacked him over the head with it. Then again, Reynolds wasn’t wrong. Upon first meeting Riza, t was easy for a lot of other officers to react to her physical appearance before remembering themselves. Many men underestimated her at first because of it, only to get their worlds shaken when they realized who she was and what she was capable of.

_ -but then her own record pops up clearly into my mind. Hawkeye was sent to the front lines of Ishval as a mere cadet before even finishing the Academy where she showcased her incredible marksmanship. I recall her scores on the latest shooting exam and then picture myself as the target should she know I made the mistake of considering her physical appearance first. Properly abashed, I shakily state my name. She greets me in a polite but precise voice, leaving no room for movement. I know right then and there that no matter how casual the office feels, work undoubtedly would get done. _

_ After having met Col. Mustang and his subordinates, I explain my assignment to them. While I’ll ask them questions periodically, my main goal is to shadow them throughout the day. I want to get into the average day of a military officer, even one as imposing as the Flame Alchemist. Mustang’s smile is charming and a hint wry when he tells me that likely nothing will happen. Contrary to belief, most of their time is spent completing paperwork. 2Lt. Breda cracks a joke that by “their time”, Mustang does not mean his own. I stand still in horror, sure to witness a severe punishment for such an insubordinate remark in front of a reporter, only to watch as Mustang laughs. _

_ “That’s what I have subordinates for, right?” he responds, just as cheeky. _

_ I’m beginning to think that, even if it is just a boring day in the office, I am not prepared. _

_ The day starts just as Mustang predicated. The team does their paperwork, talking intermittently, complaining about hand cramps, wondering what the mess hall will have for lunch. A very normal team, this one is - or so it seems on the outside. As time passes, I begin to realize how comfortable each member is with one another. This isn’t just a team - this is a family. 2Lt. Breda teases 2Lt. Havoc about his abysmal love life-- _

“Come on now!” Havoc pouted. “That’s just uncalled for!”

“Hey, free promo, buddy.” Breda guffawed and clapped Havoc on the back.

_ \--Msgt. Fuery queries 1Lt. Hawkeye on how her puppy is acclimating to his new home with her. I am stunned by the warmth that appears on Hawkeye’s face as she speaks, a thought I feel many officers might not associate with her considering her stoic behavior. After an hour or so, I feel comfortable enough to begin asking them an assortment of questions about their polarizing commanding officer. _

_ “Been with the Colonel for almost two years now, back when he was just a Lieutenant-Colonel,” 2Lt. Havoc tells me as he smacks a pack of cigarettes against his palm. “Hadn’t been in the military long and I only served in Ishval for a few months, truth be told, but he’s the best man I’ve ever worked under.” _

_ Such a glowing review from such a cavalier man. Never one to back down from the desire to dig deeper, I think about pressing my luck with a harder question. Considering the teasing remarks earlier, I ask the 2Lt. about the rumors concerning Col. Mustang’s treacherous propensity to steal men’s girlfriends right out from under their noses. _

_ 2Lt. Havoc bristles at the comment, slinking down in his chair, and mumbles, “Everyone has their faults.” _

The newspaper landed on the table as Roy’s hands fell down. He connected eyes with Havoc briefly before the other man looked away, whistled innocently, and rubbed the back of his neck. Everyone had their faults? What in the hell was that supposed to mean? Honestly, he’d only stolen one girl from Havoc. Roy wouldn’t have even called it stealing, considering it was the woman’s own choice and Havoc had barely managed to string a sentence while trying to talk with her for over two weeks. Next time, Roy swore, he’d do it on purpose. For some reason though, his eyes drifted back to Riza, but she quickly diverted her eyes away from him.

What a stupid and pointless section of the article. He’d have to figure out a way to use it to his advantage.

_ “What Havoc is trying to say,” 2Lt. Breda cuts in, “is that the Colonel isn’t perfect. It would be absurd to think he is. The man is awful about finishing his paperwork on time, might suffer from narcolepsy, and you can kiss your chances of getting a girl’s number goodbye if he’s in the mood-” _

Roy scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Breda only looked slightly sheepish as he shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Boss.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

_ “-but the man is a solid soldier and an even more brilliant alchemist. If I had to choose to follow anyone to go into the field with, it’s him. I know for a fact he’ll have my back, always has, always will.” _

_ It’s an intriguing quandary. On one hand, his subordinates know their commanding officer’s faults, but on the other, they accept them and move on without a second thought. I’ve never seen a team work like this before. It is an absolute given that anyone will complain about their boss if given the chance, but it's unusual to see those same people defend their boss with even more vigor than they complained with. Both 2Lt. Havoc and WO Falman nod in agreement with Breda, despite Havoc seeming irritated just moments ago. _

_ Even though the topic of his lazy behavior concerning paperwork has been brought up more than once, it should be noted that there is not a single mark in Col. Mustang’s record against him for tardiness or late work. Is it the result of 1Lt. Hawkeye’s diligence or is there more than meets the eye to Col. Mustang? _

_ “No one really believed in me,” Msgt. Fuery explains in the mess hall. “I’m pretty young, right out of the Academy, and no one wants someone so fresh on their team, but Colonel Mustang picked me almost straight out of the gate. He saw my record and said I had potential. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.” _

_ It’s true Fuery is young, his youthful face telling lies about his age. It reminds me of Col. Mustang though. I can already tell that years from now people will think he is younger than he is and underestimate him. I have to wonder if he saw that in Msgt. Fuery and thought to use that to his advantage. The way Mustang’s eyes survey me as I return to the office - careful and sharp - remind me I should not think little of a man ten years my junior. He uses his age like armor, a clever rouse indeed for a man of his status. The military has a weapon in him. _

While Havoc and Breda jokingly harassed Fuery for his optimistic and kind words, Roy couldn’t help but look sideways at the younger man. It was partially true he’d recruited Fuery to be on his team because of his age and looks. It was so easy to underestimate the kid because of his appearance, just as it was for Riza and her attractiveness. Roy liked it when people were blinded by the outside to understand the inside. And Fuery, for all his youth and inexperience, his blushing and sweetness, was a damn good soldier and had a mindset for electronics beyond all others. Even better, he was optimistic. No one else on the team had the same kind of idealistic nature as he did.

Roy missed the days when he had those same beliefs. They’d died in Ishval, along with everything else. Reynolds wasn’t wrong in saying that Amestris had a weapon in Roy. He was their weapon - had been in Ishval - and would be again should they ever demand it of him. That was what he was good for in the end, wasn’t it?

_ “I’m a nobody,” WO Falman mutters, “but I’ve got a good memory and the Colonel recognized that.” _

_ From the side of the room, 2Lt. Breda scoffs. “A good memory? The man is a walking encyclopedia! Most higher-ups would discount his ramblings as pointless.” _

_ But Col. Mustang saw Falman as something different - saw his words as something else - and quickly brought him onto the team where his “good memory” has come in handy on multiple cases. Curious to see what they mean, I ask a few inane questions about multiple paintings stolen fifteen years ago. I’m shocked when WO Falman not only recalls every single painting but who the artists were and where they were stolen. The man even blushes as he admits to being a fan of art, hence why he was able to remember such details. Where other officers saw his memory as pointless, Mustang learned how to utilize it to his benefit. These men are loyal to Roy Mustang, a man who is chased by rumors, myth, and history. _

_ As the day progresses, a lead in a vandalism case comes through the hotline via Msgt. Fuery. The Colonel sets plans into actions quickly, leaving me somewhat in the dust. I'm sure he didn't explain everything thoroughly, but everyone on the team understands their roles. This team clearly has a language of its own that I'm not privy to and yet it strikes me as very intimate. 2Lt. Havoc, with his breezy demeanor, teams up with his fellow sniper, 1Lt. Hawkeye, his opposite, and yet they blend together seamlessly. WO Falman and 2Lt. Breda leaf through the suspect list and coordinates based on their last sightings in ties with the tip from Msgt. Fuery. Col. Mustang barely has to say a word. _

_ This is what the military is all about: precision and dedication. There is no wasting time in Mustang’s office now. Everyone has a purpose and, beyond the jokes and casual attitudes and the occasional paper airplane, these officers are very serious about their jobs. Subordinates serious and dedicated to their jobs speak volumes of their superior officers. Mustang doesn’t run a tight ship so much as lead over a tight crew. A man is only as good as the people that serve underneath him and the people on Mustang’s team, from what I saw, are damn good. _

_ “The truth is,” Col. Mustang says as we prepare to leave, pulling on his black coat, “I’m here for them. I am nothing without the men and women that work below me.” He flashes a grin, so bright and confident, the kind of grin that disarms others. “I’ll admit to being ambitious - any man at my age in my position can’t be otherwise - but I’ve worked hard to get where I am and so has everyone on my team.” _

Havoc sniffed and rubbed at his eye. “Aw, sir.”

“You really do care about us!” Breda teased.

_ Not for long,  _ Roy thought grouchily. Falman had stayed quiet during the entire article, not even saying anything when he was mentioned. Probably for the better. Roy couldn’t help but note Riza had been quiet as well and also that there had been little to no comments about her in the article so far. She was probably grateful for that. As far as she was concerned, no publicity was the best publicity. Still, he thought she deserved more. She meant for than a few lines in an article to him at least.

_ Chasing the subject down proves to be more exciting than I anticipate and yet also more detached. I’m given the option of staying with 2Lt. Havoc at his sniper’s perch or in the car. Deciding that I will have a better view from the top, I am privy to watching 1Lt. Hawkeye take down the assailant when he tries to run through her. _

_ “Atta girl!” Havoc whoops as he watches through the scope. He leans back as the suspect is arrested and lights up another cigarette out of nowhere. “Normally, Hawkeye is up here, but every now and then, she’s down in the action and I’m up here.” I ask why and he shrugs his shoulders. “Sometimes the Colonel just prefers for her to be at his side. I don’t get paid to ask questions and he gets paid to make the decisions.” _

_ Strange how these men trust their commanding officer so blindly. Or is it as blindly as I think? Maybe they see something that I don’t, something that comes from years of working with a man that seems to know their faults and strengths and uses them to his advantage. They know his, after all, and yet it doesn't deter them. In fact, they all seem to embrace any weaknesses their superior officer has. _

Roy frowned. Was this reporter calling him weak? Sure, he had his faults - everyone did - but there was no reason to call him out so harshly like that. “That’s enough,” he decided, folding up the paper.

“You didn’t even finish it!” Fuery burst out surprisingly.

“We have more important matters than reading some silly article about things we already know,” Riza put in.

The rest of the men looked at each other sheepishly and then slowly meandered to their desks. Havoc, still being at his own, merely slunk down in his seat. Tucking the newspaper under his arm, Roy nodded to them and then returned to his interior office. He briefly glanced at Riza before he shut the door. She wasn’t looking at him, but he thought that her cheeks were a little pink. He couldn’t say why, but perhaps it was because she had somehow already seen the end of the article. Sitting down at his desk, Roy opened the paper up to read the last part once more, the part that he hadn’t read aloud.

_ Perhaps the most telling part of Col. Roy Mustang is his relationship with his adjutant, 1Lt. Hawkeye. At first, I thought nothing of it. They are nothing except professional, which doesn’t surprise me. She keeps him on the task at hand whenever his mind drifts. “Alchemists are fond of stray thoughts,” she tells me as a side note, which I find curious. It's almost warm, like when she talked with Fuery about her puppy. _

_ Throughout the day, I can’t help but notice a few more warm interactions between the two of them. Nothing inappropriate to be sure, but every small gesture speaks of trust, loyalty, and dedication. You only see those things between two officers that greatly respect one another. This is truly what the military strives for the most. Should anything bad have gone down during the bust that afternoon, I have no doubt either one of them will step in to protect the other. _

_ I imagine it isn’t easy to gain the loyalty of someone as stalwart as 1Lt. Hawkeye or the admiration of someone as awe-inspiring as Col. Mustang, but those two most certainly have it. Whereas the Colonel remains somewhat distant at all times with the men on his team, he steps aside to have a brief interlude with the First Lieutenant after she takes down the suspect, a shockingly gentle hold on her elbow. Even more stunning is the fact that she doesn't pull away, but smiles at his concern and waves him away. I know a few men that will say that the woman known as The Hawk’s Eye doesn’t smile, but I can assure you that she does. _

_ At that moment between two polar opposite soldiers, I realize how incredible of an officer Roy Mustang is. He sees the best in people and is able to bring them out in ways others cannot. Does he use them to help himself? Of course. But then what good, ambitious officer doesn’t? I can’t list a single General that wouldn’t and didn’t do the same thing to get where they are, unless money is involved. Col. Mustang has an amazing background and history, but beyond that, he has a team willing to stand behind him the entire way. _

_ I leave the Mustang’s office filled with hope for the future of the military, more than I’ve had in years. I think of Havoc and Breda posing for the camera, Fuery telling me that he is excited to hear my first talk show interview next week, Falman promising to read my article first thing when it comes out. When I peer into the Colonel’s interior office, I catch a glimpse of the man looking at his adjutant attentively as she rubs the elbow she injured in the takedown and then he waves at me. _

_ “Make me look good!” he calls out. _

_ There’s no need. Roy Mustang’s record and team speak for themselves. He’s damn good. If he’s the future of the Amestris military, then I’ve got high hopes. _

Setting the paper down on his desk, Roy leaned back in his chair, threading his figures behind his head. A pleased smile crossed his face. High hopes indeed. Hopefully, Reynolds was still in journalism years from now when Roy became the Fuhrer.  Then he’d really get a kick out of everything. Reynolds wasn’t wrong. Roy was the future of the Amestris military. It would take time and help from his team, from Riza, probably even from Fullmetal, but he’d get there. He just knew it.


End file.
